


my black eye casts no shadow

by fadeastride



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 06:57:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12405339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadeastride/pseuds/fadeastride
Summary: Teach me how to fight.





	my black eye casts no shadow

**Author's Note:**

> lmao I don't know a thing my dudes. I wrote most of this in the shower after I specifically said I wasn't going to write this.
> 
> Title from Kiss With a Fist by Florence + the Machine.

It’s only fitting that Tyler gets in his first fight for Jamie, if he’s being honest. Jamie’s always had his back and, if he was ever going to drop the gloves, Jamie was going to be the reason why.

Jamie grabs him by the back of the neck later, gives him a shake. “That was hot as hell, dude,” he says and Tyler laughs. He wonders if Jamie understands now how Tyler feels every time _he_ gets in a fight.

And the fight wasn’t bad, really. It’s not like Tyler made a fool of himself. He got in a few good hits, took a couple more, and pulled Nemeth to the ground as soon as he started to feel like maybe this was a poor life choice. The thing is, though, the thing is: Tyler wanted it to be better.

He lets himself into Jamie’s house the next morning, finds Jamie sitting on the couch in his boxers, eating a truly obscene amount of scrambled eggs.

“Sup, Seggy?” he says without glancing up.

“Teach me how to fight.”

That gets his attention.

Jamie stares at him, incredulous. “Excuse me?”

“Teach me how to fight. I want to learn.”

“Is this because of yesterday?”

“No.” _Yes. ___

__Jamie sets his plate down on the table. “Look, yesterday was awesome. But you don’t need to fight. That’s what Rouss and me are for.”_ _

__Rationally, Tyler knows that. “So?”_ _

__“So I’m not teaching you how to fight.”_ _

__Tyler is not aboving whining. He turns Jamie’s name into a six syllable word and Jamie scrubs a hand over his face._ _

__“Fine, fuck. Let me finish my breakfast and take a shower and I’ll. I guess I’ll teach you how to fight.”_ _

__He doesn’t fist pump, but it’s a near thing._ _

__When they get to the gym, Jamie throws one of those funny little padded helmets at him._ _

__“Put that on,” he says. “I’m not gonna get murdered for concussing you.”_ _

__That’s fair, Tyler supposes._ _

__“Okay,” Jamie says,“first thing’s first. Keep your thumb on the outside of your fist unless you’re trying to break it.”_ _

__“I know _that_ ,” Tyler says, because everybody knows that._ _

__Jamie shows him how to turn his body, how to put his weight on his right leg if he’s going to hit with his right fist. He tucks Tyler’s elbows close to his sides and talks him through landing a decent jab._ _

__“Hit me,” he says, and Tyler didn’t think this through._ _

__“I don’t want to hurt you.”_ _

__Jamie snorts. “Seggy. Just hit me. I’ll be fine.”_ _

__Tyler does._ _

__Jamie doesn’t flinch. “Again.”_ _

__Tyler hits him again._ _

__He lets Tyler hit him for a while, throws his arms up to block sometimes, makes Tyler work a little harder for it until he’s tired and sweating._ _

__Jamie claps him on the shoulder. “Tomorrow, after practice, I’ll show you how to defend yourself.”_ _

__That’s not what Tyler’s after, but he nods anyway._ _

__The next morning, Jamie picks him up early and drives him to the rink. Apparently Jamie convinced the guy at the gym to let him bring a couple of helmets with him, so he gets his skates on and straps the helmet to his head._ _

__He learns something very quickly._ _

__The thing about fighting on ice is that it’s not really solid ground._ _

__Tyler takes one good swing at Jamie and promptly eats shit._ _

__“Fuck you,” he says, scrambling back to his feet as Jamie howls with laughter._ _

__“Turn your skate a little and try again,” Jamie says, nudging at Tyler’s skate with his own._ _

__His foot still slips, but not as bad, and he makes contact this time._ _

__“Better,” Jamie says. “Try again.”_ _

__Tyler shifts his weight and throws._ _

__Jamie grins. “That was a good one. Okay, now get your arms up. Don’t let me hit you.”  
He puts his fists in front of him and braces for impact._ _

__Jamie puts him on his ass._ _

__“Jesus,” he mutters._ _

__“Get up. If you’re gonna let me hit you, step into it. It’ll hurt less the closer you get.”_ _

__“That can’t be right,” he says, but he steps into Jamie’s next punch. It does, in fact, hurt less. Still fucking hurts, though._ _

__“Sometimes,” Jamie says, “you gotta dance with a guy. Like an eighth grade slow dance.”_ _

__Next thing he knows, Jamie’s got him by the shirt, pulling him close to batter his face gently with his fist. He’s laughing, this little giggling thing, and Tyler can feel the warmth of his breath on his cheek._ _

__“Yeah, yeah,” he says and shoves Jamie away, praying his face doesn’t look as red as it feels._ _

__Jamie’s still laughing when he says, “We’ll do this again tomorrow, yeah?”_ _

__They spar after practice every day for a week, after everyone else has gone home. It takes four days, but he finally knocks Jamie off his feet._ _

__“Fuck yeah,” Jamie says, legs sprawled in front of him. “I think you’re ready.”_ _

__He looks almost proud, and Tyler feels warm to his fingertips._ _

__Some girl comes to the next game with a sign that says, “Punch me in the face, Tyler!” and _holy shit_ that’s a thing that’s never gonna happen._ _

__The guys think it’s hilarious though, point her out while laughing, and he laughs along even though he doesn’t really want to._ _

__He doesn’t mean for it to be a thing, but half the league is acting like him throwing a punch is some great novelty._ _

__He guesses it is._ _

__They’re playing in Edmonton not long after the first fight and Kassian skates up to him during warmups._ _

__“Hey,” Kassian says. “Heard you’re a fighter now.”_ _

__He’s really not, not yet, but Tyler says _yep_ anyway, popping the p like an asshole._ _

__“Wanna dance tonight?”_ _

__Tyler doesn’t, because Kassian hasn’t done anything, but he rolls his shoulders anyway and says, “If we’re on the ice at the same time, you third line motherfucker.” Kassian grins at him, all teeth._ _

__“See you then.”_ _

__At least it’s not Lucic._ _

__He gets away with it until halfway through the second period, when they do end up on the ice together. Kassian’s staring at him and he knows how this is gonna go._ _

__He gets the shit beat out of him._ _

__So does Kassian._ _

__They’re sitting in the box, doing their penance, and Kassian is laughing as he swipes the blood off his lip with his split knuckles. He knocks on the glass until Tyler looks at him. He pantomimes punching himself in the face and gives Tyler a thumbs up, mouths _good job_. The rapidly-darkening bruise on Tyler’s cheek stretches when he smiles back._ _

__He lets Jamie into his hotel room that night._ _

__“You look like hell,” Jamie says, tossing him an ice pack._ _

__There’s still dried blood in the cracks of his lips, and his right eye is threatening to swell shut completely._ _

__Hell ain’t got nothin’ on Tyler._ _

__“I thought this was great at first but. I don’t know, man. I’m afraid you’re going to get really hurt, and it’s going to be my fault.”_ _

__“You don’t have to worry about me.”_ _

__It’s quiet for a minute and, when Tyler looks up, Jamie’s staring at him with a look on his face that Tyler can’t read._ _

__“Yes, I do,” he says finally, and Tyler feels the guilt settle in his stomach._ _

__The guilt doesn’t stop it from becoming a thing._ _

__The whole team chirps the shit out of him after every fight, except for Jamie. He’s pretty sure Jamie would have more to say to him if the fights were costing them games, but they’ve won almost every game he’s had a fight in. Hell, Tyler’s scored in more than half of those games._ _

__He doesn’t look happy when it happens, though._ _

__Early December, the Preds come to town and McLeod rides Jamie’s ass every time they’re on the ice together. In the dwindling minutes of the third, he hits Jamie into the boards so hard Tyler’s teeth rattle._ _

__He doesn’t even think about it. He just swings._ _

__He doesn’t remember anything between the hit and the sound of his skates going down the tunnel._ _

__Jamie’s waiting at his car after the game._ _

__“We need to talk.”_ _

__“No, we really don’t.”_ _

__It looks like Jamie’s counting backwards in his head, hands clenching and relaxing. “Get in the fucking car. We’re going to talk.”_ _

__He gets in the car._ _

__Jamie doesn’t say anything until they get to Tyler’s place and Tyler drops down on the couch._ _

__“You didn’t have to do that.”_ _

__“He was on you all fucking night.”_ _

__“I know. But I can take care of myself, Segs.”_ _

__Tyler just shrugs, doesn’t say _maybe I want to take care of you.__ _

__“Jesus, man. Who do you think you are, Malkin?” Jamie shakes his head, pissed. “I never should have taught you how to fight.”_ _

__“I’m sorry,” Tyler says, and he knows he sounds forlorn. “He just, he wouldn’t leave you-”_ _

__“Protecting me is not your job, Tyler,” Jamie spits._ _

__“Maybe I want it to be.”_ _

__That’s. Not what he meant to say._ _

__Jamie’s staring at him, mouth hanging open dumbly. “What?”_ _

__“It’s nothing.”_ _

__“Bullshit. What do you mean?”_ _

__Tyler pulls his knees up to his chest, wraps his arms around them tight. “You’re always taking care of me. Since the day I got here, you’ve taken care of me. I don’t know what to give you back. I wanted to give you this.”_ _

__“Ty. You don’t have to give me anything. We’re friends. I take care of you because that’s what friends do.”_ _

__Tyler pushes his face into his knee and mumbles something he’s never been brave enough to say out loud._ _

__“Don’t fuckin’ - Tyler, don’t do that shit. What did you say?”_ _

__This is the worst day of Tyler’s life, maybe. “I said, I don’t want to be friends.”_ _

__He realizes, after it’s out, that it doesn’t sound right. The way Jamie’s looking at him, a little bit shell-shocked, says that Jamie didn’t hear it right, either._ _

__“Oh. We. I guess we don’t have to be-”_ _

__“That’s not. Fuck. That’s not what I meant.” Tyler takes a deep breath and looks to the ceiling. “I don’t _just_ want to be friends.”_ _

__“Tyler.”_ _

__Tyler meets his eyes. “I’m so fucking in love with you, man. I’m so in love with you I could puke.” He thinks he might. His stomach is rolling._ _

__He’s not expecting Jamie to laugh. He’s certainly not expecting Jamie to bend down and cup his bruised face with one of his giant hands, run his thumb along the jawline._ _

__“Is that all?” he says, and Tyler sputters._ _

__“‘Is that all’ - fuck you,” he gets out before Jamie leans in and presses their mouths together._ _

__Now it’s Tyler’s turn to look dumb._ _

__“All you had to do was ask,” Jamie says softly._ _

__“I didn’t. I didn’t know.”_ _

__Jamie leans til his forehead rests against Tyler’s. “Can you stop fighting, please?”_ _

__“Yeah. Since you asked so nicely.”_ _

__“Oh, I can be real nice,” Jamie says with a grin and fists his hand in Tyler’s tie._ _

__Tyler thinks he’d never get in a fight again if Jamie keeps kissing him like that._ _

__Two weeks later, the Caps roll into town and Wilson snows him before the game._ _

__“Pretty boy,” he says. “You wanna throw down tonight?” He waggles his eyebrows like it’s some kind of innuendo. Maybe it is, for him._ _

__Tyler pretends to think about it long enough that Jamie circles in closer, concerned._ _

__“Nah,” he says. “I think I’m good.”_ _

**Author's Note:**

> I'm embarrassing on a daily basis [here.](http://fadeastride.tumblr.com)


End file.
